


maybe the time is right (maybe tonight)

by feloosha (gwencelot)



Category: RWBY
Genre: Background Marrow/Clover, Cheesy, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22057504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwencelot/pseuds/feloosha
Summary: New Year's Eve fic!---Let it be known that James Ironwood throwsawesomeparties.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Qrow Branwen/James Ironwood
Comments: 16
Kudos: 93





	maybe the time is right (maybe tonight)

**Author's Note:**

> [See what's in the works at my tumblr!](https://feloosha.tumblr.com/wip)

Let it be known that James Ironwood throws _awesome_ parties.

At least, he thinks this one is going well. James is propped up on a balcony overlooking the academy’s courtyard, with a perfect view of the tall windows of the ballroom. He can see students and staff alike dancing, hears snatches of music in the breeze. He frowns a little when an Atlas guard passes one of the windows, but he knows it’s a necessity. The upcoming new year was the perfect excuse to host an extravagant celebration to reward the school, but James isn’t an idiot. He remembers the last ball he attended, back at Beacon. The beginning of the end.

“Room for one more?” James doesn’t have to look up to recognize Qrow’s voice. He gestures vaguely, allowing himself another moment of retrospection before offering his friend a small smile. Qrow is dressed nicely; well, nicely for _him_. He’s left his cape behind for the night, everyday outfit replaced with a smart button down and slacks. It’s more than James would have expected; but then, he never expected Qrow and the children to show up to Atlas in the first place.

Qrow joins him in leaning over the balcony, standing close enough that their elbows brush. James shivers, but he can pretend it’s just the cold. He briefly wonders why Qrow is here instead of the party, but figures he’s not one to talk. They look out over Atlas together, quiet for a moment, before Qrow barks out a surprised laugh.

“Looks like they got started early.” James follows his gaze below. It takes him a moment, but he finds them; Clover and Marrow, tucked into a corner of the courtyard obscured by plants, kissing soundly. James shakes his head.

“It took them long enough.” He watches as they pull apart, Clover’s arms coming to wrap around Marrow’s waist. It’s distant, but Marrow’s yelp as he’s lifted off his feet and spun around, accompanied by Clover’s open, honest laugh, drift up and make James smile wistfully. Clover and Marrow begin to retreat back inside, presumably to blend back in with the party and pretend they hadn’t been canoodling. He suspects the rest of the Ace Ops won’t be fooled.

James sees Qrow shift out of the corner of his eye, feels him turn so he’s facing James, arms now touching in even more places. When James looks down, he can see goosebumps trailing up Qrow’s pale skin. The huntsman is ignoring it, of course, whether from pride or not wanting to be a burden. James suspects it’s the former.

He sighs, quickly shrugging out of his jacket. Qrow watches him curiously, eyes widening when James reaches over to throw it around his shoulders.

“Jim, you don’t have to—”

“Shut up.” James rolls his eyes. He’s lived in Atlas his whole life, and the many layers he still has on ensure he’s unaffected by the absence of his coat. “I’m not going to be responsible for you freezing to death in Atlas, Qrow.”

“I’m projecting my aura just fine,” Qrow argues, all the while pulling the jacket closer. “Hey, wait, so if I freeze to death somewhere else, it’s _fine_? Thanks a lot.” James turns his head away, hiding his smile.

“That’s precisely right.” 

Qrow reaches over and thumps him on the arm, making a strangled noise when his hand makes contact with the metal. James fights not to laugh; Qrow should know better. Sure enough, Qrow just huffs in annoyance and smacks his arm again, lighter this time.

They stand together in companionable silence for a while. James directs his gaze back out to Atlas; to the few airships still making their rounds, to the party-goers filtering in and out of the ballroom, and to Mantle, lit up and glittering below. So bright and quiet you wouldn’t suspect they were suffering. James sighs; he’s going to fix it. He just needs time.

“You knew?” Qrow says eventually. “About Clover and Marrow?” Ah, they’re back on that. There’s amusement in his voice, and something else. Something James can’t identify. 

He’s quiet for a moment before finally looking over at Qrow, surprised to see his usual stoic expression has morphed into something soft, moonlight casting an ethereal glow across his cheekbones and nose. His lips are quirked up on one side in a smirk, but his eyes are much gentler, the usual fire in them dimmed to embers. 

“Yes,” He finally answers, because he can’t just stare at Qrow all night. “Well, I—I had my suspicions. Clover is… he wears his heart on his sleeve.”

Qrow snorts. “Yeah, you’re telling me.” James raises his eyebrow at that, but Qrow doesn’t offer him anything else. James could push, but he won’t; Qrow will tell him in time, like he always has. 

“I’m glad they have each other,” James continues, fiddling with the ends of his sleeves. He rolls them up, almost stopping when the glint of his prosthetic arm catches the light—but it’s _Qrow_. He’s safe here. “Unorthodox as it may be.” James finishes rolling the sleeves up to his elbows, not minding the chill. 

He pauses for a moment, playing his words back to himself in his head. He curses. Qrow knows him well enough that he won’t take it the wrong way, but still— “I didn’t mean… not because they’re both men,” James says quickly, making sure to look Qrow in the eye. “There’s nothing… that’s fine. Obviously.” He stutters, waving his hands a little, uselessly. Qrow’s smirk only grows, eyes briefly darting to his right hand before coming back to his face.

“You enjoy watching me squirm,” James accuses. He feels silly for even worrying about this.

“Maybe I just like watching watching you,” Qrow shoots back, and _oh_. It’s so honest, and not at all what James was expecting. He freezes, urging his mouth to move and say _something, anything,_ they can play this off like a joke and pretend nothing happened—

But Qrow is stepping even closer, reaching out to lay a hand on his gently. James lets him, sucks in a breath when Qrow removes his gloves and fits them palm-to-palm, metal to skin, and doesn’t dare say anything other than a stuttered, “Um.” He hopes he’s not blushing, but if he is, Qrow isn’t calling him out on it.

“I’ve always liked these, you know,” Qrow says absently, pushing the tips of his fingers against James’, bringing his other hand up to trail along his metal forearm. No, James didn’t know; he tries not to think about his prosthetics much beyond what’s necessary in maintaining them, because anything else will only bring up bad memories. He tries to wrap his head around what Qrow is saying, because nobody _likes_ them, they tolerate them, and sometimes not even that. But Qrow has always been anything but predictable.

“Qrow?” James says softly. The sensors in his hands and arm are firing at lightning speed, responding to every touch Qrow makes with a jolt of surprise and pleasure.

Qrow releases his hand and slides both of his own up, letting his palms curl over James’ shoulders. James’ jacket begins sliding off of him, but James reaches out to catch it, securing it around Qrow once more and tugging him closer in the process. He holds onto the lapels, his arms bracketing Qrow, creating their own little cave of warmth.

“I like everything about you,” Qrow mumbles, but they’re close enough that James hears every word. He exhales slowly, the cold air turning it into a cloud between them, and tries to steady his racing heart. Qrow is watching him carefully, vulnerable, stupidly sincere.

James has never been good with words, but he knows he needs to try. To make Qrow understand that he feels the same, hell, probably feels it even more strongly. Before he can open his mouth, loud chanting floats up from the ballroom below. The countdown to midnight. Had time really passed that quickly?

_FIVE_

Hm. Maybe he doesn’t need words after all.

_FOUR_

James tightens his hold on his own jacket, pulling Qrow forward until there’s barely a breath between them. 

_THREE_

Their noses touch, cold, but James has never felt warmer.

_TWO_

“Thought you’d never catch on,” Qrow murmurs.

_ONE_

Their lips meet at the exact moment Atlas’ fireworks burst in the sky. Just a gentle brush at first, but James tilts his head to get a better angle, and _there_. Qrow makes a soft noise against his mouth, hands moving to cradle his neck and jaw. James _needs_ to touch him, _now_ , so he lets go of the jacket and lets it drop away, grabbing Qrow around the waist with a smile. Qrow pulls away to mirror him, and James doesn’t even have to look up to know that fireworks could never compete with that smile.


End file.
